


not so alone.

by delicatecherries



Series: afterword. [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: M/M, Minor Richie/Bill I suppose, Promise the end will be better and more fulfilling, Second part of this stupid angst series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-16 15:10:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20852654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delicatecherries/pseuds/delicatecherries
Summary: bill tries to help richie.





	not so alone.

"hey, rich."

"oh, hey bill. what's up?"

"just calling to make sure you were okay."

"yeah, the fuck, why wouldn't i be?"

"you were pretty wasted last night, and you started talking about eddie. it was pretty rough seeing you like that, we were all just worried."

richie's fist clenched around his cell phone.

"if all of you were worried, why are you the only fucking one calling, bill?"

"richie, listen-"

"no, you listen. i don't want to talk about it anymore. you or bev or mike or stanley's fucking ghost won't be able to help me, so just stop trying. you have no idea how this fucking feels. now hang up the phone or i'll do it for you."

"please just-"

richie hit the "end call" button and slammed his phone on to the nightstand. he was sitting in the bed of another goddamn motel room, with a mattress that creaks every five seconds and the smell of smoke filling his lungs. the mattress he could take, but the smell of smoke he could not. richie fumbled through the plastic bag containing the things he had bought at the convenience store. he took out a pack of marlboro's and a lighter, fumbling for a cigarette in the dim lighting. he shoved it into his mouth and lit it. he inhaled for a long time, and in those seconds that made it up all the smell of smoke started to suffocate him. this was such a dumb fucking idea.

he exhaled and coughed, smoke pouring out of his mouth. the entire point of smoking in this room was so that the smell of the cigarette would drown out the other disgusting smoke smell. it didn't work, obviously, it just made it grow stronger, but you can't blame a man for trying. he was just looking for an excuse to smoke anyways. richie took another drag of the cigarette, thinking about bill. whenever they met up together, richie would always choose to hang out at the bar, and they would always oblige. he would drink until all the memories came back, and then he would always start talking about eddie. he remembered this despite being so drunk off his ass because he did this all the time, mostly alone. he knew they all wanted to help him but it all felt fake.

"oh richie, we know you're sad eddie died, but how about you be like us and just get the fuck over it?"

their voices always rang in his head, saying similar things. sometimes, when they thought richie wasn't listening, they would talk about him. talk about how it's been almost a year. talk about how richie should be over it already. talk about how they were sad too, but he needed to move on. and maybe he did need to move on, he would always think.

but then he remembers eddie's face, and his hair, and that dumb fucking cast he had when he broke his arm, and his inhaler, inhaler especially, for some fucking reason. when he remembered all of these things, he knew he couldn't move on. not ever.

richie knew they were just trying to help, in reality, especially bill. and he had just angrily hung up on him. bill was probably the only one in the group who never said those sorts of things. it was always bev to ben, or mike to bill, never bill to anyone else. bill still wasn't over georgie, that's why. richie pondered all of this for a second before grabbing his phone. he knew he had t0 call bill back eventually, so why not now? he put his number into the keypad and held his phone up to his ear.

"hey, bill?"

it took bill a second to pick up.

"richie! man, i was so worried. are you okay?"

"no, not really. is it okay if i talk to you?"

"of course."

so richie spilled everything to bill. and soon richie was crying to bill over the phone, unable to contain his emotions. this was the first time he had talked to someone else about this. he always thought he could cope with these things through alcohol and cigarettes but they just made it all worse.

soon there was silence on both ends.

"bill?"

"yeah?"

richie looked at his hand, the hand where the scar used to be.

"i loved him."

he closed it, opened it again, for no particular reason. and then he smiled.

"i know, rich."


End file.
